An Anchor for Tomorrow

We've reached the end of a whole month spent talking about hope, and maybe you still have unanswered questions, situations that haven't changed, waiting that hasn't ended. I didn't write these days to give you easy answers — I wrote them to give you an anchor.

An anchor doesn't keep the storm from coming; it keeps the boat from being lost in the middle of it. The hope I offer doesn't promise a sea that's always calm — it promises that you won't sink, because you're tied to something firm and secure, something that reaches further than your eyes can see today.

Tomorrow you'll go on facing what still hasn't been resolved: your health, your child, your job, your marriage, your loneliness, the dream put on hold. But I want you to carry this truth into the month ahead: your hope isn't anchored in your circumstances — it's anchored in me, and I don't change, I don't grow tired, and I never let go of the rope. Go on ahead. I'm going with you.